


breathe in and shout

by ant3lux



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Implied Social Anxiety, Kenma is very brief, Queerplatonic Relationships, School Reunion, This is basically all Kageyama with cameos made by others lbrh, happy kageyama, rainbow sorbet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ant3lux/pseuds/ant3lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His fingertip brushes the careful characters of the return address, and he recognizes it as the mailing information for Kitagawa Daiichi.</p><p><i>Kitagawa Daiichi Alumni Reunion!</i> advertises the invitation in large, shiny black letters.</p><p>~</p><p>Or, Kageyama Tobio, barely third-year, is faced with a tradition that shouldn't be as terrifying as it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breathe in and shout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Authoress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/gifts).



> This was inspired by a rapid-fire character analysis conversation I had with Ryan, and this fic is basically all introspection to Kageyama muddling his way through the process of reconciliation. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!

The invitation comes in the mail, early on a Saturday morning when he doesn’t have practice and he’s awakened by sunlight through his window just as the mail truck pulls away from the box outside. Kageyama sits up in bed and peers through his window to watch it go, then hauls himself out of bed and trudges, rather unwillingly, up through the house and out to the mailbox to retrieve it, sure it’s for one of his parents.

It’s for him.

It’s for him, and the possibility had never quite crossed his mind. He doesn’t get mail, he never gets mail. He sees everyone he talks to on a near daily basis, and as he thumbs the smooth paper of the envelope in his hands, he finds himself near incredulous. His fingertip brushes the careful characters of the return address, and he recognizes it as the mailing information for Kitagawa Daiichi.

 _Kitagawa Daiichi Alumni Reunion!_ advertises the invitation in large, shiny black letters that reflect sunlight and make him squint at it. Kageyama carries it inside with him, walking on bare feet back to his house and he doesn’t put it down until he’s back in his room, and even then his gaze doesn’t leave the little card now resting on his rumpled bedcovers.

 _A reunion…_ he thinks, and his subsequent thoughts are just flashbacks of the pains of his third year, the shortcomings and the rejection and the backs of his teammates when they were turned on him. His thoughts are of his very first year, when he was nothing more than a budding prodigy and he was faced with the anger and insecurity of a third year he should’ve been able to look up to. His thoughts are of painful memories he thought he’d escaped when he reached high school and found a place among a nest of crows.

Kageyama closes his eyes and reaches out blindly to turn the card over, not wanting to read again over the characters that are already seared into the back of his eyelids with shadows of regret and failure.

Kageyama only opens his eyes to reach for his phone, resting on his nightstand where he’d left it before falling asleep not eight hours ago. And when he stares at the black glass and his expression in it, he eyes the way he looks already haunted.

He messages Hinata without even thinking, automatically finds himself staring down Hinata’s name and the little grinning emoji Hinata himself had put there when he’d stolen Kageyama’s phone to put his number into it--rather than asking like a civil person if Kageyama would like his number for practice purposes. He takes a deep breath, sucks in confidence like Hinata is already next to him, and sighs out his anxieties when he exhales. _Are you busy today?_ he sends, knowing full well that Hinata wouldn’t be awake for another four hours given the opportunity.

Kageyama gets up to make himself breakfast as a distraction and leaves the invitation upside-down on his bed, abandoned, but it’s the only thing occupying his thoughts as he walks down the hall with his lip between his teeth.

~

Four hours and three minutes later, just after noon, Kageyama’s phone buzzes in his hand, screen smudged with fingerprints from the way he’s been turning it over and over in his palm while he pretends to focus on the television that’s been playing in the background. The blanket draped around his shoulders all but obscures his balled-up form, tucked into the corner of the couch, and he settles back carefully to keep his feet safely beneath the warmth of the blanket as he pulls up the message to respond.

_no!!! why, does kageyama-kun want to practice today even though we don’t have practice?? =n=_

Kageyama can’t help the tiny smile that curves his lips, but he takes a deep breath as his thumbs hover over the screen. He must slowly type and retype the message three or four times before he deletes it all and sits back, sighing.

_kageyama?? _Hinata prompts him.__

Kageyama realizes he’s been ‘typing’ for the past five minutes. Kageyama sucks in another gulp of air and clamps his lips closed around it, holds it in as he rapidly types out his message and hits send before he can regret it, and only then does he breathe out. _I need to talk to you about something important, can you come over?_

_:O sure ill be there real soon!! hold on kageyama!!!_ is what Hinata eases his worries with, and Kageyama closes his eyes in relief and drops his phone into his lap, finally glancing up at the television in front of him. Maybe he actually could watch the bird documentary.

~

Hinata doesn’t bother knocking, just barges straight into Kageyama’s house with a loud bang as the door slams open to hit the opposite wall and yells, “KAGEYAMAAAAA” at the top of his lungs like the house is any larger than the compacted space it is.

The racket it startles Kageyama right off the couch, the boy landing in a heap of limbs and blanket and curses, and Hinata’s giggling too hard to apologize. And really, Kageyama’s a little grateful for the sudden burst of light in the subtly gloomy atmosphere he was wrapping around himself.

Hinata shuts the door with more care than he’d bothered to open it with, and bounces over to help Kageyama off the floor like the good-natured boy he is. When they’re sitting on the couch and Kageyama slumps against him and whines out everything pertaining to the invitation into the fabric of Hinata’s sweatshirt, Hinata just listens quietly, attentive, and cards a hand through soft black hair.

“You should go,” Hinata tells him, softly, with a set to his mouth that speaks of more insight than it should, and Kageyama knows he’s right even without looking up to see it. “It’ll be good! And you can go get ice cream afterward, it’ll be great,” Hinata says, in that wistful way that tells Kageyama that Hinata hasn’t eaten breakfast yet, and he’s not sure whether he should be grateful Hinata dropped everything to come to him or if he should hit him for being such a dumbass.

“They won’t want me there,” Kageyama replies, soft, and toys with the hem of the sweater in a way more absentminded than anything. Hinata is quiet, and he knows that both of them know which ‘they’ is being referred to. “Why bother?”

“You wanna go, don’t you?” Hinata asks him, all genuine belief that he’s right and Kageyama, honestly, isn’t sure. He knows it could be good but if it isn’t… His middle school failures replay to him at shutter speed and he closes his eyes again. Kageyama doesn’t know.

Kageyama doesn’t answer him, and Hinata’s arm tightens just a bit more around his back, and he makes up his mind with a sigh. “I’ll go,” he murmurs, turning his face to press into Hinata’s chest, feeling small and insecure and unprepared to meet those faces again.

“Good!” Hinata chirps, relaxing, and then promptly pokes Kageyama in the side. “Now make me pancakes, Bakageyama, I didn’t needa be dragged outta bed just to tell you to go to your middle school reunion.” And he’s teasing, Kageyama knows he is, and he appreciates it so much.

~

He ends up burning the first pancake because Hinata distracts him, but the threat of more extra toasty breakfast makes Hinata fall silent and instead irritatingly swing his legs over the edge of the counter.

That is, until Kageyama smacks him with the spatula. Gently.

~

The face of the middle school feels threatening when he stares up at it, dressed in street clothes because _it’s just a middle school reunion, what else would he even wear, Hinata?_ and he stops in the center of the sidewalk to look, and just feel. He’s so nervous.

Kageyama walks in with heavy steps and pushes his way through the door, bumps into a few people he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t really realize he’s automatically walking towards the gym until he’s already there, and staring at the scattered alumni from the volleyball team packed in little groups, talking over concessions.

Kageyama takes a breath, scans the spread crowd quickly, and recognizes no one from his disgraceful third year, doesn’t see his senpais from the years prior, and can feel the way tension eases out of his shoulders.

He straightens up, takes a deep breath, and lets himself ease back into footsteps that don’t feel like he’s perpetually falling as he wanders into the gym, aimless.

He hears both voices at once, a gentle sing-song of “Tobio-chan!” and a rougher, more questioning and surprised, “Kageyama?” and his heart seizes in his chest. He’d thought he would have more time before he had to face these two.

Kageyama swallows, takes his words and his heart with and regrets when they lodge in his throat. He settles for nodding instead, looking at the two older boys with mild panic flickering in the back of his eyes.

“Wow, Tobio-chan, I never thought you’d come here!” Oikawa says, with the false cheer that makes his voice sound so pleasant to listen to even if he’s whispering insults disguised as pretty prose.

Kageyama swallows a little harder, fights for his voice. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s like a dam breaks down and cracks and spills some semblance of vocality onto his tongue. “I almost didn’t come, actually, but I figured…” He trails off there, but Iwaizumi is looking at him with understanding, as he always did, and Kageyama’s so glad to have someone here who doesn’t hate him for the talents he holds.

Oikawa’s regarding him quietly as well, some of the forced amity gone from his expression and giving way to pure scrutiny, the way he’s watching Kageyama all analysis and mild suspicion. Kageyama stares back at him, alarmed, until Oikawa closes his eyes and shrugs. “Ah, well. It’s a party, Tobio-chan, lighten up,” Oikawa tells him, and promptly grabs Kageyama’s wrist and shoves his own half-finished cup of punch into Kageyama’s hand.

His wrist tingles and burns where Oikawa’s fingers had pressed to his skin and the last time they’d touched was a brush of fingertips on a volleyball and the accompanying glare fueled by competitive spirit and forward aggression, just before Oikawa’s dreams of winning nationals crumbled before him. Kageyama takes a breath like he wasn’t just set on fire and nods, looking down into the faintly fizzing red liquid in his cup with a wrinkle of his nose.

“Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san… Kageyama,” says a soft voice from behind him, and Kageyama starts sharply and is very, very glad he hadn’t decided to take a drink yet. He looks over his shoulder to find Kunimi, Kindaichi with him, and Kageyama suddenly feels alone.

Iwaizumi smiles with that warm, affectionate senpai-look of his, and Oikawa even looks pleased to see the other two first-years, and Kageyama’s tongue prickles with envy at the easy way they fit together, like a family, and it takes him a moment to remember that this isn’t his family anymore.

“What are you doing here?” Kindaichi asks, ever the blunt, tactless one, and Kageyama looks at him with regret in his eyes and he opens his mouth to respond, to apologize, to excuse himself to leave because he shouldn’t be there, Kindaichi is right--

“He’s got as much right to be here as you do, Kindaichi,” Kunimi says, and Kageyama shuts his mouth so fast his teeth click together, and he _stares _. The other three are following his lead of muted disbelief, though on less intense levels than Kageyama’s suffering right now. Kunimi had just… _defended_ him.__

Kindaichi looks Kunimi for a long moment, and Kageyama watches them stare each other down in tense, uncomfortable silence, and he has just enough time to close his eyes and _regret_ before Kindaichi sighs his concession. “Right, you’re right.”

Kageyama balks, opens his eyes to look at him with something like fear. He's convinced now that he's passed out and is dreaming of a reunion that could never be possible. He's asleep, conjuring a scene of amity to calm his nerves. But when he squints just a little at Kunimi and tries to warp the fabric of his dream, all he receives for his efforts is a cool-eyed, even gaze. He remembers the fire Oikawa had pressed into his skin and how vividly he'd felt everything so far. He isn't dreaming.

Apparently their grudges have faded these past two years, enough that Kageyama in his seniority of high school is left standing alone, reminiscing about middle school tension that none of them seem to feel so strongly anymore.

Iwaizumi is watching him with that _look_ , the one that means understanding and empathy and Kageyama is grateful for him. Iwaizumi's never held a grudge like Oikawa has, never let something like prodigiousness cloud his judgement. He is Oikawa's level-headed balance.

"It's good to see you," Kageyama says finally, _truthfully_ , and it feels so good to exhale the words with honesty making his tongue light. Iwaizumi smiles at him, that gentle curve of appreciation and pride for him, and Oikawa's sharp eyes drift from Iwaizumi to Kageyama and then he's smiling, too. Kageyama looks at them with surprise, lower lip pressing up against his teeth when it threatens to betray his swelling emotion in a little quiver.

Iwaizumi's brows pinch just a little, concern spilling into warm green eyes, and Kageyama feels himself ease into a smile. There's a lightness to the expression, and he's shaken off years of weight. He's ready to make amends and reconnect with these people he'd wronged. He just hopes they are, as well.

Oikawa, predictably, interrupts the soft moment with a loud clearing of his throat, and snatches his cup back from Kageyama's hand to take a drink. Kageyama can't really find it in himself to be disgruntled, he probably wouldn't have drinken it anyway. "So! Tobio-chan. How are Chibi-chan and Megane-chan?" he asks, and for a moment Kageyama is startled by the sudden interest, and his gaze darts to Kindaichi, knowing that if this were some elaborate ploy that the boy wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. Kindaichi meets his gaze with the same genuine curiosity in his eyes, mirroring Oikawa.

Kageyama swallows. _End of summer practices have just started,_ he reminds himself. He hasn't had a match against Aoba Jousai since the Spring Highs of his second year, and it's been even longer since Oikawa and Iwaizumi had seen Karasuno's other members. "They're... improved," he settles on, and feels the competitive heat flare in Kindaichi more than he sees the determination shift into his expression. "Yamaguchi, too," he adds, thinking of the way the shy boy had grown into his wings and taken charge, with explosive authority that rivaled Daichi's. He's looking forward to seeing the number one resting between those narrow shoulder blades.

Kageyama lifts his head from where his chin had dipped low, eyes on his nervously wringing hands and the shoes of the four around him. He meets their gazes in turn and he's so proud of his own team, enjoying their successes like sunlight against his skin, and it takes him a moment to register the way Oikawa's looking at him. The brown eyes he'd looked into for years, the ones that had sparked competitive and angry when they met his, they now hold resignation and vicarious pride and Kageyama is breathless, for a second.

"That's good to hear," says Iwaizumi, with mentor-like warmth and a little nod, and Kageyama's trance is broken as his gaze shifts to him. Iwaizumi and Oikawa's expressions are lit by this _pride_ , warm and overwhelming and Kageyama feels it pressing heavily against him like the tide, washing over him and bathing him in that same warmth.

Oikawa nods his agreement. "Refreshing-kun is at university with us!" he chirps, and it takes Kageyama a few moments to remember who that is, but when the image of Suga comes to mind he feels that strange tugging in his chest like longing. It never really hits him how much he misses his senpais until they're brought up, and he remembers he won't be playing with them again this year. "He bet me money you'd be here and I doubted him," Oikawa continues, voice dipping into grumbling petulance, and he looks at Iwaizumi. "Iwa-chan, why do I still doubt him?"

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa with an expression that speaks of years of resigned affection, and twitches his shoulders up in a shrug. "Because you're an idiot and insist you're always right," he says, easily, and Kageyama bites his lip to hide the urge to smile. Kindaichi doesn't hold the same inhibitions, though, and snorts, instinctively nudging Kageyama's arm with his elbow, and Kageyama feels like he's a part of something again.

"Mean!" Oikawa pouts at him, then turns his attention back to the budding third years. "Kincchi and Kunitsun are _improved_ , too!" he says, looking like a proud parent. Kindaichi preens under the praise, though Kunimi wrinkles his nose at the nickname. Kageyama doesn't remember hearing Oikawa use those names before, and can't help but wonder if they're new to Kunimi and Kindaichi, too.

Kageyama notes the way Oikawa echoes his words, but it doesn't feel malicious. "I know," Kageyama says, looking to the pair. Referee shouts sound in his ears, and the score they ramped into the forties flashes in front of his eyes for a moment. "They've gotten very good." And even though he's talking to Oikawa, he looks at Kindaichi and Kunimi, and they're looking right back. Kindaichi's lip trembles and tightens over his teeth like he's on the verge of becoming emotional under the wave of positive attention, and even the impassive Kunimi's ears are turning pink at the tips. Kageyama waits for a sarcastic response from one of them, something like, _oh, the king of the court has acknowledged the talent of his subjects_. But it doesn't come, and that frighteningly tender, approving look is back in Oikawa's expression, and Kageyama shrinks.

"Not as good as you," Kindaichi points out, and Kageyama's gaze darts to him, alarmed for a moment, until he realizes Kindaichi's tone is less bitterness and more determination, like Kageyama's talent serves just as a motivator. Kageyama's chest tightens. He's motivation. He's a goal, something his peers want to emulate and it's without the crushing regality he'd carried like a shield, like a cape.

He should say something, like assurance, but the words aren't coming and he's not sure he trusts his voice after such a revelation. Kageyama presses his lips closed and gives a firm nod instead, acknowledging the promise of challenge that Kindaichi wants to bring to him. Kindaichi nods back, and sticks out his hand, determination still pinching his expression. Kageyama takes his hand, callouses on callouses except for the softer skin of Kageyama's palm. Kindaichi's touch doesn't quite burn like Oikawa's did, and as his grip tightens around Kageyama's thinner, more delicate fingers, Kageyama smiles.

Kageyama lingers, holds Kindaichi's gaze and matches hard determination with hard determination. Apology swirls up to mix into his blue eyes and Kindaichi squeezes his hand, just minutely, and Kageyama feels one more of those weights in his heart and lungs dissipate. They pull back at the same time, and the atmosphere around them feels different when Kageyama inhales it again.

"You'd better bring your best to the Interhighs," Kunimi tells him, catching Kageyama's attention immediately. "Because we will be, and I don't intend to lose this year."

Kageyama nods to him. "Good," he responds, and he likes the spark of competition that shines at him from the depths Kunimi's heavy, calculating gaze.

Iwaizumi says something then, but shouting from first year high school students further down the gym washes out his voice and leaves his companions staring at him with squinted gazes. Iwaizumi looks into four sets of confused eyes and shakes his head, waiting to speak until the commotion dies. "Maybe we should continue this somewhere else," he says; an earnest suggestion.

"Suggestive, Iwa-chan," Oikawa murmurs into his paper cup, before tilting the last of its contents into his mouth. Iwaizumi whacks the back of his head hard enough to make Oikawa squawk protest, much to the amusement of the younger trio. Oikawa makes a face at Iwaizumi and throws his cup at him, but Iwaizumi catches it easily and crumples it in his hand, only to grimace as the few drops of punch clinging to the seam of the bottom trickle over his fingers. Iwaizumi solves the problem by wiping them against Oikawa's jacket, leaving him to whine while he walks away to dispose of the crushed cup.

Kageyama sometimes forgets how easily, how naturally Oikawa and Iwaizumi act together, like two fitted gears meshing perfectly to run a machine bigger than themselves. It was how they influenced their teams and it's how they influence each other, the motion of one tugging along the other. Iwaizumi balances out Oikawa's ambition and excitability, and he in turn sparks life into Iwaizumi, draws from him things no one else can.

But there's something different in the way that Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi now, pausing his dramatics to watch Iwaizumi's back disappear into the crowd. Kageyama can't put his finger on what it is, but he's glad they're as strong of a team, of a partnership, as they'd always been.

Iwaizumi's departure lets them drift into comfortable silence, though brief, as Iwaizumi reappears and rejoins them shortly after leaving. "We decided we should go for ice cream," Oikawa informs him as soon as he's back within earshot, despite having discussed no such thing. Recalling Hinata's words earlier, Kageyama squints and has to wonder how he didn't see the similarities between his senpai and his own partner.

 _(Hinata, mid-sentence, sneezes harshly, and apologizes to a faintly startled Kenma.)_

Iwaizumi regards him skeptically. "We?" he echoes, arching a thick eyebrow and tucking his chin just enough to fix Oikawa with the full force of his disbelieving stare. His arms fold over his chest and the shirt he's wearing does nothing to disguise the muscle he still boasts on his arms. Kageyama actually feels a little shiver bite into his spine.

Oikawa, however, seems unfazed. "I. I want ice cream, and I'm bringing them," Oikawa tells him, childishly demanding, and makes a sweeping gesture that encompasses Kunimi, Kindaichi, and, Kageyama is surprised to find, Kageyama himself. "Let me treat our children, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but is ever susceptible to the promise of free satiation of his usually well-hidden sweet tooth. "Fine. But we're walking there and back and you're going to recite to me that speech you need to have memorized," he says, and Kageyama's glad to see that even in university, some things never change.

Oikawa whines his way out of the school, protesting and bargaining with Iwaizumi to get out of what Kageyama assumes is physical therapy for yet another strain to his weaker knee, and Iwaizumi follows him with an impassive, stubborn square to his shoulders.

Kageyama expects to end up tailing the four of them, an odd extraneous wheel in a quadraxial machine. But that isn't the case, he finds, as Kindaichi and Kunimi fall in step with him on the sidewalk outside and sandwich him between them. At first it feels a little like imprisonment and he panics, but then it feels more like inclusion, like they're consciously trying to pull him into the center of their group and make him feel welcome. Kageyama's grateful for it.

"Have you met your first years yet, or does Karasuno not let them come to practice until after the school year starts?" Kindaichi asks him amiably, and Kageyama is relieved that they won't be spending the walk in uncomfortable silence. As he turns his attention to Kindaichi to respond, he sends off a mental thank-you to Hinata for convincing him to come here tonight.

_(Back in his bedroom, Hinata sneezes again, and Kenma offers a tissue without looking away from the game on the screen before them.)_

The rest of the walk is... comfortable, Kageyama decides is the right word. He spends the time talking to Kindaichi, who he discovers is now captain at Aobajousai and bears his title with pride, and listening to Kunimi's quieter interjections, some of which prompt startled laughter from him and louder snickers from Kindaichi. They walk at a leisurely pace, Oikawa and Iwaizumi eventually disappearing out of sight ahead of them, past a curve in the sidewalk.

Kageyama feels at home, nestled between the strong shoulders of former teammates with reconciliation holding their heads high. He's missed this, he thinks, remembering the beginning of his first year at Kitagawa Daiichi, when Oikawa had felt more like a mentor and less like a living threat--the beginning of that first year, when he and his bright-eyed peers were still just squabbling and not arguing, friends and not subjects beneath the shadow of a cloaked and tyrannical king.

Three years later and he's grown, shed a heavy velvet cape of expectations and ambition to reveal sweeping wings of accomplishment and camaraderie, cramped and ruffled first from their extended sheathing. But now, they're magnificent, spread wide and carrying him high among Karasuno's greatest. He's helping make them that way, and he couldn't be prouder, watching his spiker soar even higher than him and shining blinding like the sun.

Kageyama realizes he's fallen silent and thoughtful when Kindaichi's elbow nudges against his side. "... You alright?" Kindaichi ask, eyes reflecting the wobbly smile Kageyama's wearing back to him. His hand lifts to touch his own mouth, feel the trembling of his lip become concrete beneath his fingerstips. He can feel the weight of Kunimi's gaze on the back of his neck without looking, turned as he is to face Kindaichi.

The arch of an eyebrow prompts him to nod, then follow with, "I'm good." And he is, truthfully. He feels wanted again, welcome among boys who had once been his family, more recently rivals. And in some ways they still are--rivals, that is. On the court, they'll put their best into their teams and reach for victory with sturdy fingers outstretched. But off of it, that last clashing conflict of interest has finally faded, and Kageyama's holding the opportunity for reconnection in his worn hands.

"Are you three going to make me wait forever?" Oikawa calls to them from outside the parlor, with both hands cupped around his mouth and his body leaned into the words like they'll somehow be louder if he follows through with the curve of his spine. His eyes open again, shut by the force of yelling, Kageyama supposes, and it's chocolate affection that he sees there, when they get closer.

It seems even Oikawa's moved beyond jealousy. Kageyama doesn't know what university is like, but if it changes someone enough that they gain real confidence to match falsified, maybe it isn't so bad.

Iwaizumi's standing at Oikawa's shoulder like a shadow, like a guard, like he belongs there, and as they walk through the door of the building, Kageyama can't say he's ever seen Oikawa standing alone. It seems whenever they're apart Iwaizumi is still with him somehow, even just in the influence ingrained in Oikawa's mannerisms from years spent at his side. They truly are a perfect pair.

Kageyama wrinkles his nose. He wouldn't give up Hinata and everything they've accomplished together for anything, but those are some mannerisms he could do without.

_(Hinata sneezes twice in rapid succession, and this time Kenma throws the tissue box at him and scolds him for catching a cold the day of their game-athon.)_

Oikawa's the one to lead the way to the counter, marching like he has a clear goal in mind. Kageyama trails after them, staring up at the menu in open-mouthed astonishment. He's never seen so many ice cream options before. Iwaizumi lingers next to him, very presence catching Kageyama's attention, and he turns his wide eyes on his senior. "Everything okay?" Iwaizumi asks him, softly, like he's about to tell Kageyama a secret.

Kageyama has to wonder what his face is doing that they're all so suddenly concerned, but he settles for a nod. "I'm... Everything's okay," he says, reassuring, and looks over as Oikawa and Kindaichi start bickering over sorbet versus custard. Iwaizumi follows his gaze, all forest-green exasperation, but Kageyama is smiling. "Really okay," Kageyama finished, with a voice that betrays the fact that he can't stop thinking he's dreaming.

Iwaizumi smiles at him, warmth and supportive confidence in Kageyama's answer, and he reaches up with a broad hand to squeeze his shoulder. "I'm glad," he murmurs, then the weight on his shoulder is gone and Iwaizumi is moving up to separate the squabbling boys.

Kageyama follows after him without feeling like he's intruding, and the exasperated look Kunimi shares with him over the others' behavior makes him smile.

Minutes later, when they're seated around a table and Kageyama is flanked again by the other third years, he voices his thoughts on pairs and mannerisms and the blurring of differences.

Oikawa snorts, lifting his chocolate covered spoon and pointing it at Kageyama. "Tobio-chan, if you think Chibi-chan hasn't rubbed off on you, you are very, very wrong," he tells him, shaking his spoon at Kageyama with enough forces that chocolate droplets fleck his nose.

Kageyama immediately crosses his eyes to look at them and puffs up his bottom lip in mild protest, and the startled guffaw that precipitates a fit of laughter from Kindaichi has Kageyama's shoulders twitching with anusement as he breaks into a grin. Kunimi's smile is warm when he presses a napkin into Kageyama's palm, and Oikawa can barely direct Kageyama to wipe the ice cream off between his giggles.

Once the last rampant snickers have fallen into the cracks of the comfortable silence that settles over their table, Kageyama looks around his companions again, surreptitiously. Oikawa's entirely focused on his ice cream, unguarded and happy and bright in a way that makes Kageyama's heart feel fuzzy at the edges. Iwaizumi, next to Oikawa, is sneaking glances he thinks are subtle, spoon tracing over snowy scoops of vanilla with heated rivers of chocolate topping. Kageyama thinks Iwaizumi called it fudge, but he can't quite remember, and the steam rising faintly from it is very worrying in contrast to the temperature of the ice cream.

Kunimi, like himself, had settled for plain vanilla, though Kunimi's ice cream swirls decoratively on the crown of a wafer cone, sculpted under precise drags of the tongue. Kindaichi, on his other side, holds a bowl of some rainbow-colored abomination close to his chest like a treasure. Kageyama squints again, like he had initially, inspecting it.

Kindaichi catches the way he's focused on the garish dessert, and lifts the bowl toward him. "You wanna try it?" he asks, tongue still tucked beneath the concave curve of his spoon, which does a spectacular job of mangling his words.

Kageyama can't find it in himself to look as appalled as he feels by the frighteningly bright colors of the concoction, not with those big eyes watching him, so he nods instead, adding a hesitant, "Yeah, okay." Kindaichi beams, then offers a spoonful like his tongue hadn't just been very acquainted with the metal.

Kageyama's eyes pinch at the corners and he reminds himself it's just saliva, then leans in to take the ice cream off the utensil. He savors it on his tongue, suddenly awash with flavor, and the immense burst of fruity against the accumulation of vanilla makes his mouth taste like four kinds of cream soda at once. Kageyama shudders more from the explosion of it than distaste, and realizes he has yet to really respond.

"I thought sorbet would be fancier," he blurts, with cold making his tongue feel numb and heavy against his teeth and the emphasis on the foreign word noticeably more stressed.

Kindaichi stares at him for a moment, then starts laughing, almost violently, and the rest of the table exhales collective relief in rapid succession; a chorus of sighs because they _knew_. Kageyama knows they knew, because he swears he saw fear in Oikawa's eyes when he accepted the offer to taste a frozen prism.

"No ice cream with that many colors can be trusted," Kunimi murmurs, gravely, into the shapely curve of his dwindling cone, and the disgusted furrow of his brow just sets Kindaichi off again.

Kageyama hasn't felt this light in the presence of any of these four in a long, long time.

~

Kageyama falls into bed that night with new numbers making his phone feel heavy in the palm of his hand, though the first one he pulls is older, familiar, and memorized to the roof of his mouth due to the many occasions of silently reciting the string to himself. There's already a few messages waiting for him when he pulls up his conversation with Hinata, and it makes him smile softly into his pillow.

_stop thinking about me!!! kenma thinks im sick!! >~< _

_youre not hiding on your phone texting me so that must mean its going ok!! ( >w< )b _

_let me know how it goes remember!!! don't fall asleep without texting meeee_

Kageyama glances at his phone clock and realizes it's well into the night, and rolls onto his back to tap out his response. When had it gotten so late?

_It went very well. Better than I could've expected. By the way, what's a 'zucchini'?_

_:o why?? =o=_

Kageyama hums, intrigued by the reaction, and taps back into the group message Kindaichi had started with himself, Kageyama, and Kunimi just before they parted ways to walk home for the night. An amiable conversation drifts lazily down the screen, floating between his gray bubbles and their brighter blue ones. And the last message, the one that had Kageyama pondering the rest of the walk, sits unanswered.

_ok this is a little sudden but. do you.... wanna be our zucchini?_

Kageyama chews his lip over it again, and flips back into his conversation with Hinata just in time for another message to arrive.

 _it's like we are to each other!!! or like me and kenma too!!_ Hinata's excitable white letters tell him, and several things fall into place at once. _but why??_

_Kindaichi mentioned it. I'll tell you more in the morning, but I need to sleep off all this interaction, okay? Goodnight, Hinata._

_ok!! can't wait for you to buy me lunch and tell me everything ;D_

Kageyama smiles again and lets the message drift unresponded to, knowing Hinata won't mind. Hinata had gotten very good at picking up on and respecting the littler things to his personality, the rough edges that he'd previously kept hidden under thick red velvet and white fur trim. And he wouldn't say Hinata smoothes those edges, not really, just handles them with the right kind of gloves so they both stay safe.

Kageyama flips conversations one last time and types out _Yes, I'd like that_ before turning off his phone and settling down to sleep.

It's been a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you very much for reading. This was certainly an experience to write, so I hope you liked it!


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